


Random Politico

by out_there



Category: Sports Night, West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-11
Updated: 2005-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And your political hero-worship overcame your natural urge to babble?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Politico

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://storydivagirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**storydivagirl**](http://storydivagirl.livejournal.com/) asked for a Sports Night meets West Wing story, with the line "Do you think he's really dead?" Thanks to [](http://ahab99.livejournal.com/profile)[**ahab99**](http://ahab99.livejournal.com/) for betaing.

The baseball went flying past Casey -- four feet to his right -- and Casey spun around in time to see the ball hit a jogger, slap-bang in the middle of his forehead. The guy keeled over, crushing the grass beneath him.

Casey turned back to Dan, who was staring at the scene with wide eyes, and said, "I think you killed him."

"I didn't kill him."

"You might have killed him. That was a pretty hard throw," Casey said, watching Dan's expression change from shock to growing horror, "but nice aim."

Dan glared at him as he quickly trotted over to the fallen stranger. "I wasn't aiming at the guy's head."

"I can't believe that a trip to Washington ends up with you killing a guy," Casey muttered under his breath as he followed Dan. "What the hell were you aiming at?"

"I was aiming at you," Dan replied. "I got distracted by a very short skirt walking past and--"

"And instead, you managed to knock somebody out. You're kind of lethal." Casey paused, too tempted by the enticement of playing with Dan's mind. Sometimes, it was like shooting fish in a barrel: so easy and so fun. "Do you think he's really dead?"

"Give it a rest, Casey," Dan said, but he looked fairly worried. Casey's whole dead theory was disproved when they saw that the guy was conscious. He was sitting up, holding his head and grimacing in pain, but conscious nonetheless. "Are you okay, man?"

The guy groaned, tenderly pressing his fingers against his head. "Um. No, I think-- Ow! I think not."

Casey crouched down in front of the guy, who was wearing grey sweats and a dark top. "What's your name?"

"Josh," he replied with a glare, his fingers still exploring the rapidly forming bump on his forehead, "and, oh, that really smarts."

"I think you might need a lift to the nearest hospital," Casey said as he helped the guy stand up. "That was a nasty hit. Apparently Danny has a fairly lethal arm." He glanced behind him to see Dan nodding and oddly silent.

Casey kept his hand on Josh's arm; he didn't seem too steady on his feet. "I'd like to be manly and say that I'm fine, but I'm mature enough to admit that medical practitioners have their place in my life."

"In that case, it's just as well Dan insisted on renting a car." Casey nodded at Dan, and Dan took the guy's other arm, and together they walked him to the car.

After twenty minutes of dealing with traffic, and a long wait for a doctor who eventually pronounced the guy fine -- if you didn't count the possible concussion -- they kept Josh company until a somewhat-frazzled blonde came to drive him home.

Casey waited until they got back to the car, then he indulged his curiosity. "You were awfully quiet."

"I'm a quiet guy. Strong and silent type."

"Yeah, and I've got a Masters in Philosophy," Casey said sarcastically. "You didn't kill him, Danny, and he understood it was an honest mistake. This probably won't be a big thing."

Dan pulled a face. "I know that."

"So what is it?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Dan sighed. "That was Josh Lyman."

"I didn't think he told us his last name."

"He didn't have to. He's Josh Lyman." Dan stared at him, and Casey had the feeling he was missing something. "Josh Lyman, the Deputy Chief of Staff?"

"And your political hero-worship overcame your natural urge to babble?"

"I don't babble, Casey. I talk, I discuss, I facilitate reasoned debate," Dan said, gesturing with his hands as if that proved his point. "I didn't want to... mis-speak."

Casey rolled his eyes. "You care that much about what a random politico thinks of you?"

"You've just been dying for a reason to use the word politico, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Casey replied with a grin.

"Anyway, he isn't random. He knows Abby Bartlet."

"Ah," Casey said slowly. "The famous Mrs. Bartlet. So that's why you were quiet. You didn't want her to think you were an idiot."

"Something like that, yes."

"Well done," Casey replied, and Dan grinned at him. "Now, she'll just think you're a hazard to public safety."


End file.
